Finchel and Heather Hudson
by Allisha Shelly
Summary: Rachel is pregnant and coaches Glee and her husband Finn coaches The Chicago Bears. Their lives are twisted when their daughter Heather inherited a disease and has a high possibility of getting cancer when she grows up.


Prologue

Finn

I pulled Rachel deeper into the water. The water was warm, like bath water. I leaned down to kiss her. Our lips locked and I wrapped my arms tightly around her slim waist.

"You know, in the beginning, I thought you were out of your mind." She whispered, pulling away from me.

"I was out of my mind about what?"

"You know, this 'subject.'" She said in a giggle-like voice. I understood what she meant.

We twirled in the water like we were waltzing on the silky sand. She was against me as we paced back and forth in a small square. She gracefully spun like she was a ballerina. I swpet her off her feet, her head cradled against my chest and I carried her deeper into the warm water.

Chapter 1

I was not at all surprised when Rachel demanded for a decent radio of some sort. She said that our radio was too old-fashioned and out of date. She wanted something more "modern" and had better sound quality (Rachel these days). She also wanted something that would "match our bedroom," which I didn't quite understand, but she probably meant something close to our wall color (but it would be pretty difficult to find a sage colored radio). Almost pushing me out of the door to go to Best Buy, I jumped in our Ford Taurus and pulled out the driveway.

For the first few minutes on the road, I felt guilty for leaving my Rachel home by herself. She seemed so much more fragile and attracted to accidents ever since she was pregnant. I hope she wouldn't trip and hit her head on the tile floor in the bathroom again. She almost got a concussion.

One thing I learned about Chicago was traffic jams. _Never_ go out of the house when people are coming back from work, which is typically around 5-7. I was not the least bit surprised when I found myself stuck in the middle of a sea of cars and trucks. The only sounds that could be heard were honking, the purr of car engines, and the music coming out of my car radio.

As I waiting patiently as cars started to inch down the road. The song on the radio changed, and I couldn't help but smile as Don't Stop Believin' by Journey filled my ears. Memories from High School flooded my mind. It seemed like yesterday when we sang a Journey Medley at Regionals. I remember the sad faces that could be seen from The New Directions when we realized we hadn't placed and the club was going to be over. I remembered when everybody jumped for joy when Mr. Schuster announced that Glee club had another year. And more importantly, I remembered finally telling Rachel I loved her.

When I was on the actually moving again and Don't Stop Believin' ended, I felt like I was predicting the future. I could picture Rachel's glee club winning Regionals and holding up the first place trophy high in the air. And even if they didn't win, I knew the "new" New Directions was going to shine again in Sectionals.

Just before I could pull into Best Buy's parking lot, my cell phone rang. Quickly parking the car, I switched off the engine and pulled my cell phone out of my jean pocket. It was Rachel.

"Rachel?"

"Finn, come home."

"What's wrong?"

"You know what's wrong! Come home, now!"

She hung up on me. I was speaking to a dial tone. Before I could close my cell phone, I froze and sat in my car like a stone statue. The words "come home now" seemed to be spoken through her teeth, like she was enduring some kind of pain. She was almost screaming at the top of her lungs when she said "Finn, come home." I didn't want to admit it, but I knew what was happening.

I set my phone onto the passenger seat so I wouldn't have to fiddle around in my pocket if she called again. Starting the engine, I raced out the parking lot and darted down the road. If there was another traffic jam, I would just be the unluckiest man yet. The first mile or had no traffic jam. But as I got closer and closer to my house, I could see a little mob of cars building. Buy the time I reached traffic light, I was stuck at the end of a _long_ line of cars.

"Dammit!" I murmured under my breath. I could just imagine Rachel now. She was probably on her knees screaming. I wondered if the neighbor's could hear her. I hoped she was just too desperate that she called 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I'm going to give birth and my husband is not coming home form Best Buy!"

I could just imagine her saying that this very moment. I prayed for the cars to move and for the traffic lights to turn green. I didn't care if the cars ahead of me could only move a centimeter at a time, but it was much better than just sitting here in the middle of road without any progress. My wife was going to give birth and I can't get to her because I'm in the middle of a damn traffic jam!

To make time pass quicker, I fiddled around with the car radio. I listened to every station available and played chopsticks spun the two monkeys dangling from the mirror in circles.

I hadn't realized that I had been stuck in the sea of automobiles for 20 minutes until I flashed a quick glance at my watch and we started moving again. I drove just over the speed limit and darted down the road. I typically would stare at the Sears Tower, but in a situation like this, I had no other choice but to drive as fast as I could (but not get a ticket, which would waste another 15 minutes), focus on nothing but the road and Rachel, and hopefully everything will be okay at the end.

When I pulled up my driveway, I burst out of the car and rushed up the stairs. I opened the door with so much force I thought it would fall off its hinges. I searched the living room for Rachel, but she wasn't there. I could only see dying plants, a TV, and a couch. But no Rachel.

When I switched on the kitchen lights, my jaw dropped. Sitting on the floor against the pantry door was Rachel. She was eating peanut butter with a spoon straight out of the jar (she double dipped if I might add) and acted like everything was okay.

"And now you come home," She said, peanut butter stuck to her lips. I was bewildered.

"I thought you were…"

"False alarm," she said through a mouthful of peanut butter.

"It was probably indigestion or something. Apparently peanut butter did the trick."

For a minute, I felt like I wanted to slap my palm against my forehead. All that panic for nothing.

"Did you get a new radio?" She asked, closing the lid to the jar of peanut butter and licking her lips. I sighed and gave her a look that meant "Whataya think?"

I held out a hand and she pulled herself up. Slipping the peanut butter jar back into the pantry, she pushed me aside and disappeared into our bedroom.


End file.
